Lost Keys
by casbutt
Summary: Talbot can't sleep while Flynn isn't home. Talbot/Flynn


This is the first thing I've ever wrote so yeah, sorry if it sucks. I haven't finished it so I'll probably upload the rest of it soon I guess.

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Talbot squinted his eyes as he rolled over and looked at the clock on his bedside table. 4:23AM. He grumpily buried his face in his pillow and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Still no sleep, and he didn't see him getting any on the horizon. The blistering heat made his bed sheets sticky, and it was nearly impossible for him to stay in a comfortable position for more than five minutes. It was just as bad that Harry hadn't returned home yet, which was making him feel sick at his boyfriend's absence Was he still at that bar? Since he had started working there the time of which he arrived home was growing later and later, and Talbot had been left alone with his jealousy in the dark and empty apartment while Flynn was out, no doubt surrounded by young and attractive men. Talbot rolled over again, and angrily flipped the pillow over in attempt to shake away those thoughts. It was no use, everything in the room was victim to the boiling humid conditions that overwhelmed the small apartment, and the thought of other men flirting with the man he loved was only adding to his troubles. He thought about calling Flynn and asking where he was, but there really wasn't any point. He should be home soon, anyway. Itching his head irritated, he decided to try and soothe his restlessness with a drink.

He peeled the sweaty sheets off his body and fumbled around for his night robe, which was hung neatly on his wardrobe door handle. The apartment was always kept neat and tidy, despite Harry's best efforts to destroy that with his empty beer bottles and take-away boxes left carelessly on the floor. No matter how many times Talbot would remind him that they did have a bin, Flynn would always ignore his requests and still go about making his orderly home a cluttered garbage dump. As he shuffled his tired feet toward the door he aimlessly groped for the light switch, scrabbling at the wall. With no luck he was forced to painfully open his eyes, and with the help of the orange tint from the outside street lights he flicked the switch and ventured into the kitchen. The kitchen was a lot more well lit, and Talbot ran his fingers through his short dark brown hair as his eyes slowly became accustomed to the light. Leaning on the fridge door and he swung it open, he squinted at the contents of the fridge. Endless bottles of alocohol took up most of the contents, all of which belonging to Flynn. Talbot let out a dissatisfied sigh, and reached for a bottle of wine next to what looked like an old lemon. Could have been a kiwi, but there was no way to tell. Flynn had forgotten to go shopping, again. He poured himself a glass and decided to make a night of it as he slumped himself down on the sofa.

His eyes were scratchy from tiredness and he struggled to keep them open, but rubbing them only added to his discomfort. He could never really get to sleep before Flynn came home, he just felt so empty until he knew that he was next to him.. What was he doing now? He was normally home by now, and every moment he wasn't with him just made Talbot feel worse. Was he out at the bar, flirting and dancing with other men? Talbot felt his stomach twist and heart clench at the thought of him being with another man. He knew Flynn wasn't one for having serious relationships, but after all, it was Flynn who asked him, and came running after him, his heart on his sleeve and filled with apologies. But he knew he had a past of meaningless flings and string of lovers.. He then realized how much he was on his mind. Why wasn't he home yet? Talbot repeated the question in his head, even though he knew thinking about it wasn't making him feel any better.

Reading. Reading always helped him sleep. He set his wine glass down next to the now half empty bottle, and made his way over to the bookshelf. He ran his finger along the spines of the books until he got to his favorite book, and then flicked the dust off his fingers. He flicked through the pages and smiled to himself, distinctly remembering each sentence and page after having read it uncountable times. As he was just about to return to the sofa, he couldn't help but glance out of the window. It was a surprisingly nice night, despite the searing heat which had cost him his precious sleep. The grey-black fog which usually hung in the sky over this particular part of central London was hardly noticeable and for the first time in a long time you could actually make out the bright white moon among the shimmering stars. But suddenly, Talbot's gaze was drawn to what appeared to be a very drunk Flynn feebly leaned against a lamppost desperately trying to regain balance. Talbot stared in disbelief as he watched his boyfriend fumble around in his pockets, how long had he been there?

'Flynn!' Talbot loudly whispered out of the window. Flynn was so drunk it seemed that all his senses were drunk too as he continued to search his pockets, his face filled with concentration. Talbot called his name again, this time much louder and Flynn lifted his head toward the blurred figure above, and squinted his eyes at the light flooding out of the apartment window. The drunken thief shouted something back which Talbot thought was his name, but instead was the drunken slur of the man who had had about ten more beers than he should have. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Talbot yelled, even though he sounded angry he was extremely happy to see that his boyfriend was not passed out and somewhere where Talbot could finally hold him back in his arms knowing that he's safe. Well, that's if he doesn't pass out trying to get up to the apartment. 'Talbot!' Flynn yelled waving his arms, stumbling back at the lack of balance. 'Rick, I- I've lorst..' he squinted his eyes at him, and then burst out in hysterical laughter. Letting out an impatient sigh, Talbot waited for his laughter to subside. He was used to Flynn's drunk humor even if it was just him, laughing at anything he could find an excuse to laugh at. The howling laughter stopped, and the drunken mess leaned back against the lamppost in thought. 'I've lurst my kees..' he mumbled as he slid down the lamppost in defeat, and Talbot could see that he was going to fall into a deep drunken sleep if he didn't move him back into the apartment.

'Stay there!' Talbot hissed out of the window as he grabbed his keys from the hook and slipped his shoes on which were neatly placed by the door in pairs. 'Well whur else am I gunner go sweetheart..?' Flynn hiccuped back sleepily. He hurried down the stairs, but half way down he realized he was barely clothed, wearing just his night robe, underwear and shoes. He couldn't be bothered to trail all the way back up the stairs, and anyway it was 5:00AM, so who would see him? His giant formal shoes clomped and banged as he thundered down the stairs on his rescue mission, leaving the poor residents of each floor to think there was an earthquake. The apartment block was in quite good condition, to say it was only a cheap apartment and located in the concrete jungle that was central London. He reached the bottom floor and the light flicked on, forcing Talbot to rub his eyes. He suddenly remembered how sleepy he actually was, and even though he knew he had to drag his paralytic Harry back upstairs, all Talbot wanted to do was sleep. The quicker Flynn's back home, the quicker he could finally sleep. And with Flynn beside him, this time. Pushing the two glass doors open, Talbot walked over to observe the sleeping beauty, laid legs apart and mouth wide open on the concrete floor. Getting him upstairs is going to be much harder than he thought.


End file.
